The New World
by xDragonModzx
Summary: Post Mockingjay story of what I think would have happened (or what I hope would have happened!) R&R please!x *Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games
1. Family

I wake up and stretch out my arms, expecting to find Peeta beside me but he's not there. I'm confused for a second then I hear the oven door closing downstairs. He's already up.

My eyes slowly adjust to the forest green walls of our room. Light is starting to stream through the slits in the shutter blinds. I unwrap the blanket from myself and cross to my wardrobe. I slip from my pyjamas and dress in a simple dark green tank top, black trousers and brown boots. I let my long dark hair stay loose though I run a brush through it, removing the knots and tangles. I finger the pearl and key around my neck. The pearl is the same one from the Quarter Quell and the key unlocked Peeta's handcuffs when we were in the Capitol. I had them put on a silver chain some years ago now. I've never taken it off since.

I go out onto the large landing, the soft cream carpet under my feet, and make my way downstairs into the kitchen. When Peeta and I started to live together, the house in the Victors Village didn't feel like our home. We bought a large tumbledown old farmhouse, very high up on a mountain. Peeta and I spent over a year repairing it but it was worth it in the end. The house has six bedrooms though only ours is constantly occupied. The living room has a wooden floor and a huge fireplace. The kitchen is huge, a traditional farmhouse kitchen, with a small cellar which comes in handy with Peeta's baking habits. Our home came with a lot of the surrounding land too, perfect for my own hunting habits. We have a few empty paddocks and farm buildings too. We've lived here for nearly five years, married for almost the same amount of time.

"Hey." Peeta greets as I pad into the kitchen, his blue eyes sparkling in the rising sun.

"Hey." I smile. I boost myself up onto the worktop. Peeta raises his eyebrows at me, he doesn't like me sitting on the counter but he lets it slide.

"I achieved something this morning." he says.

"Oh really? What did you achieve?"

"I actually managed to make it down here without that cat hissing at me." he says, jerking his head towards Buttercup in his cat basket.

Buttercup is ancient now. We managed to drag him up here with us. At first he wouldn't settle but he eventually grew to like it here. He's quite important to me though, being Prim's cat. The feeling isn't mutual. He spends his days sleeping in his basket and lounging around in front of the fire and his nights catching mice in the surrounding woods then coming into our bed afterwards.

"That is an achievement." I say, my mouth full of scrambled eggs.

There's a harsh knock at the door. Peeta and I exchange a look, knowing who it is already. I sigh and slip off the counter, followed by Peeta. I open the door and on the doorstep stands Greasy Sae, her straggly brown hair dampened down by the rain.

"Haymitch?" I ask matter-of-factly, leaning against the door frame. She nods.

"He must have gone on a spree last night. He's pretty messed up." she sighs. "He needs a carer or something. He's getting out of control."

"We'll deal with him." I say, resisting the urge to roll my eyes.

Greasy Sae nods again then retreats down the path from town that leads up here. I close the door behind her. I sigh tiredly and walk straight into Peeta's open arms. We stay entwined for a few moments before I pull away. I pull my hunting jacket from the row of hooks on the wall.

"Where are you going?" he asks.

"Where do you think?" I snap at him. He shakes his head.

"Look, we can't keep going on like this. We're adults now and we have our own lives to be getting on with." Peeta says.

"What do you have in mind then? We can't just leave him." I say, pulling the keys to Haymitch's house from the box on the wall and opening the front door.

He shakes his head again and follows me out into the rain.

We trudge down to his house in the Victors Village and through the front door. The wave of extreme heat and the awful smell hits me straight away. Greasy Sae was right.

He was definitely on some kind of spree last night, no doubt about it. The floor is covered with stains and dozens of empty liquor bottles. Haymitch himself is lying, passed out, in his filthy armchair. I go straight into the kitchen and fill up a basin with water. I don't even consider trying to shake him awake.

Some things will never change.

Peeta prises his knife from him before I throw the water over him. He jerks awake, screaming curses at us until his mind slips into focus and he recognises us.

"Why didn't you let him wake me up?" he asks indignantly, pointing at Peeta.

"This can't go on, Haymitch. You're a living wreck." I tell him sharply. Haymitch looks to Peeta appealingly. Clearly he thinks that Peeta's soft side is still open to him.

"She's right, Haymitch. You need to sort yourself out." Peeta says, his voice turning hard. "We're not teenagers any more. We don't have time to be running around after you. We have our own lives now."

I offer him my hand and pull him up. I don't let go once he's up though. Judging by the amount of empty bottles, he'll be very unsteady on his feet.

"Go and have a shower. You can come home with us for the rest of the day." I say. He doesn't object and goes up the stairs submissively.

As soon as he's out of eye shot, I collapse onto the sofa. I put my head in my hands, a few tears starting to slip out. Peeta sits beside me and puts his arm tightly around my shoulders.

"What are we going to do with him, Peeta?" I sob, burying into his side.

"I'm still working on that one." he says softly, smoothing my sweep fringe back with his free hand. I pull away and take his hand. "He's going to drink himself to death eventually."

"Discuss it at home, Katniss. I'll think of something." he says comfortingly.

We sit in silence for another twenty minutes until Haymitch comes downstairs. His eyes are a bit brighter and he's cleaned himself up. He can't hide the guilt on his face though.

After a testing walk up the path, which involved Peeta and I ending up dragging Haymitch up the trail, we finally get back to our home. Haymitch deposits himself on the brown leather sofa. He has the decency to stay silent. I cook up a rabbit stew for supper and serve it up to him with some bread. He mutters his thanks. He must be nursing a killer of a hangover. We eat in complete silence, I can feel the tension in the air. Frustration and a little anger from Peeta and I and guilt from Haymitch. After we've eaten, I pull Peeta into the kitchen.

"Thought up any genius ideas?" I ask, almost desperately.

"No. Well, no practical ideas . ." he says, trailing off.

"So what's your impractical idea?" I ask apprehensively. He looks away and swallows nervously. I know what he's thinking of. "Your idea was asking _Haymitch_ to come and live here?"

"It's a stupid idea anyway. I know you like it being just us and . . ."

"Peeta, I'm not mad." I say calmly, cutting him off.

"You're not?" he says incredulously.

And I'm not. When the thought first passed into my mind I wanted to reject it automatically but I can't. There's not many other options we have. To my surprise, I don't even mind the idea of him being here.

"No. I think it's an option." I say reasonably, then a thought passes through my mind. "Peeta, you know if we do this then it makes it impractical to have any children. Not around the drunken Haymitch. It's dangerous."

"I know." he says sadly. His face is so pained it hurts me too. I wasn't ready to give Peeta children yet but it wasn't something I wouldn't consider for the future.

"What if we make him stop?" I say suddenly.

"Stop drinking?"

"Not altogether. Slowly. Then, in the future, we can safely consider children."

"You seriously think he'll abide to these proposals?"

"Maybe. It's worth trying. Besides," I smile playfully. " . . we can always kick him out."

"Good point." he laughs.

Peeta and I file into the living room silently. Haymitch looks up edgily.

"Who died? You two look like someone's just dropped dead." he says, a little snappily.

"We have something to ask you." I say quietly, looking into his grey eyes. Haymitch looks at us, almost curious. "Haymitch, your drinking is out of control. You can't go on living in the Victors Village like that. We were wondering if you like to move in here with us."  
Haymitch's eyes widen, shocked. Bet he didn't see that coming. He collects himself after a few seconds and narrows his eyes.

"Well, Lover Boy wants himself some kids doesn't he?" he says, a mocking edge creeping into his tone. "You wouldn't have me up here, drunk, with her knocked up would you? Or you wouldn't have me up here with little kids charging about the place. So, regarding the drinking, what's your proposed ground rules?"

I go to answer him but Peeta gets there first.

"Three bottles a week. We would prefer you didn't drink them all on one night. In fact, we would prefer you didn't drink at all but since that scenario is unlikely we settled on offering a compromise. You can have those three bottles as long as you try and get off the liquor." Peeta says sharply, Haymitch goes to speak but he cuts him off straight away. "It's killing you, Haymitch. You need to stop while you still can."

Haymitch sits back, weighing up his options. After what Peeta said about giving up, I doubt he'll even seriously consider it now though he's right of course. All this drinking will kill him some time.

"Fine." he says after a while. Peeta and I look up, stunned. "Fine. I'll keep to my three bottles a week and try to give it up. I have one question though."

"What?" I ask.

"Do I have to listen to you two going at it all night?" he says, his arrogance resurfacing.

Normally I would have flushed and made some sarcastic comment back but this time, I laugh. Peeta and Haymitch look at me unusually then join in and we can't stop ourselves.

I wouldn't want to stop it anyway.


	2. Letting Go

A year and a half later ….

I slowly wake up, coming around from a dream. Not a nightmare, a dream. That's rare.

Peeta has arms around me, my head resting on his chest. I look up and his blue eyes are fluttering open, his normally smooth blonde hair ruffled up. It's unusual for Peeta to rise at the same time as me. I'm usually up and out before he's even out of bed.

"Hey." he sighs happily, letting me go, rolling over onto his back and stretches. I sit up and shake my long dark hair out. It's probably sticking out everywhere.

"No nightmares. You?" he asks.

"No. I had a dream though. It was happy and sad at the same time." I say, the images rushing clearly through my head.

"What was it about?"

"I was going through town and into the Meadow and you were there."

"Sounds terrifying." Peeta laughs, running a hand through his blonde locks.

"_Let me finish. _Prim and my father were with you." I snap. I hear him take in a sharp breath. "You were all talking. You were telling them about our lives now. My father and Prim hugged me and told me how much they had missed me. We all talked for what felt like ages. Then Prim led me away and we sat on this big rock. She asked me why I had no children of my own and I told I could never do it after her. I told her how much I had missed her and that I was sorry I couldn't save her."

"I thought she would try and convince me that it wasn't my fault but she didn't. She just looked up at me and smiled. Then she whispered to me, 'Let go." and I woke up." I say sadly.

I look at Peeta. His blue eyes are fixed on me, reading my emotions. I just give him a sad smile then turn away.

"And now I've woken up, I have. I'll always mourn Prim but I've let her go now. I'm sorry I've denied you your family all these years, Peeta, but I'm ready now. It's time to move on. You know when we left for the Quell before we could say goodbye?"

"Yeah?"

"Well when we were going away, I pretended that all those loved ones were birds in a cage. When we were on the train, in my mind, I let those birds go. Only in this situation, I've been keeping Prim's bird locked up for too long. Now, she's flown away. She's free."

"Then you're free too, Katniss."

"I feel _free_,Peeta."

"You deserve your freedom. You've suffered enough for it."

"So have you. Yet I haven't given you what you long for."

"What was that I heard a minute ago? '_I'm sorry I've denied you your family all these years, Peeta, but I'm ready now.' _I think I'll be taking up that offer." he laughs. "So . . . so, you're agreeing to have children?"

I snort. He's so used to me saying no that he's even questioning my OK.

"Yes, Peeta. I am."


	3. A New Mellark?

Two months later ….

I curl up fearfully on the cold tiled floor of our bathroom and sit watching the ominous stick balancing on the edge of the sink, fear pulsing through my veins.

I can't be pregnant. Not me. The test says otherwise but I don't believe it.

I should. Peeta and I have been trying ever since that morning. Peeta, as the father, has a right to know about this but I made sure both he and Haymitch were out of the house this morning. Haymitch is buying more of his beloved geese at the market and Peeta is down at the bakery, instructing his two new apprentices.

The fear is taking over my mind. I wonder if this is how Peeta feels when he has his terrible episodes. If that's the case, he handles it much better than I do.

I'm Katniss Mellark, what do I do? I do what I was born to do. I run. Who knows what I run from. If I'm trying to run from the truth, I'll never get very far. I'm carrying it inside me.

Yet I run. I shove the test into my pocket, go out the front door, down the path, through town, past the groups of houses, straight through the huge metal gate and into the woods. The only place I can think.

Peeta could easily have seen me when I sprinted through town. It's unlikely. He's teaching Brody and Kellen today but the thought makes me nervous. I scramble up the largest tree in my line of sight, far too high for Peeta to even think about scaling. I don't know what's scaring me about Peeta finding me. Actually it should be something of relief for me, to tell Peeta, but I can't. I can't bear to tell him, to see that joy in his eyes when all that is in mine is fear.

Of course Peeta would be happy. He's finally getting what he longed for. Even I have to admit there's some happiness in knowing I'm carrying his child. _My child_. A pure, innocent little baby.

As soon as those words are in my mind, a whole other list of scenarios of things happening to my child rush into my mind. I won't let it happen. I'll protect it with all I have. So will Peeta, but what are two people against the forces of the world?

That's when the tears come. I sob for hours, the pain in my heart never letting up and all I can think about is Prim and Rue. I was too late to save Rue, to save Prim, maybe I'll be late to save my own child too. The sun starts to set, the temperature starts to drop. Haymitch would have been back from the market for hours, no doubt wondering where I had gone. And Peeta. He'll be on his way home now, if he's not already there. When he finds out I'm not there, he'll come out here looking. I always come out here in my flights of fear. He can always normally find me.

I should just go home. What is sitting up in a tree going to do for me? But I don't move. I just sit and let the tears flow down my cheeks, let my sobs fill the air.

Another hour passes, I hear footsteps to my far left. Then a voice to match. I fall silent.

"Katniss. Katniss, where are you?" Peeta calls out repeatedly. Then I just about pick up his whisper to me. "Katniss, fly home to me."

I swallow, fighting the urge to howl out his name. I hear his footsteps come closer and closer to my hiding tree. In the waning sunlight, I can just about make him out, scanning the tree canopy with his back towards me.

"Peeta." I call to him.

He whips around to the sound of my voice. His eyes search for the point of the sound until he sees me, curled up in the highest branch. Even in the fading light, I can see his brilliant blue eyes fill with relief.

"Katniss, come down." he says softly. "Whatever it is, we'll get through it."

Slowly, I slip from my place in the branches and work my way down the tree trunk and back to the ground. As soon as my feet touch the ground, Peeta takes me into his arms. I sob into his chest.

"Why do you always run from me?" he asks, pulling me into him.

"I don't know." I mumble into his coat.

"What's the matter?" he asks, stroking my hair soothingly.

"I'm pregnant." I say quietly.

I pull away slightly to get a look at Peeta's face. His face and eyes are completely blank. It wasn't at all what I had expected. I had anticipated that he would be full of happiness and joy, wanting to tell the world, but he's very quiet and sedate.

"Well, say something." I say, a bit panicky.

A grin spreads across his face and his eyes light up. Now this was more like what I had been preparing myself for.

"I don't think you could have ever made me happier." he grins, pressing his forehead against mine.

"I thought so." I say, smiling a little.


	4. Facing Facts

4 months later . . .

I curl up on the sofa, watching the last embers of the fire die out. Haymitch is sitting opposite me on the armchair, flicking through the channels on the television.

The 76th and final Hunger Games was mandatory to watch for the Capitol people where as in the districts, you could choose. Peeta and I opted out of it. Although I had voted for it, I didn't want to see the consequences of my decision. In the end it was Snow's granddaughter, thirteen year old Viola, that was crowned the victor.

Peeta is nestled in beside me, reading a book. His free hand is on my swollen stomach. I started to show very early, making it impossible to hide. Haymitch knew of course but no one else. I hate leaving the house now. I hate the suspicious looks and mutters that I get when people see me. No doubt this has already spread across Panem, all the way to the Capitol. Great.

That's the least of my worries. I've suffered badly with symptoms. Morning sickness was the worst. Almost every morning, I've ended up on the bathroom floor, throwing up. I have lost interest in most of the foods that I used to love, that frustrates me. And I'm always tired. No matter how long I sleep for, I will always spend the next day tired.

"Haymitch, did you feed the geese this morning?" I ask, my eyelids starting to droop.

"Of course I did." he says as though it's a completely stupid question.

He's probably telling the truth. Haymitch spends most of the day with his geese. They live in one of the paddocks outside. Haymitch hated having them outside at first, they used to live in a room in his house but we weren't having that. Haymitch doesn't drink any more. Until four months ago, he had his three bottles a week but he gave them up when he knew I was pregnant. I'm grateful for it. I don't really want any child of mine raised around alcohol. Then I feel it.

A fluttering sensation in my stomach. Only light, like someone ran a finger tip on my skin on the inside. Peeta felt it too. He met my eyes. I had no doubts about what it was. That was my baby moving.

And I hated it. It made it real. My eyes flare like a spooked horse, and I run from the living room as fast as my legs will carry me. I hear Haymitch ask him what happened but I don't hear a reply, I can hear Peeta behind me. He doesn't try and stop me though, he's just going to follow me until I stop.

I go out into the kitchen then straight out the back door but instead of going towards the Meadow, I turn left and dart into the long grass. I run for a few more metres before losing the will to keep moving. I sink to the ground and rock myself back and forth, howling and sobbing.

It was all real now. That dream-like quality was gone. I was four and a half months pregnant. I was going to have a baby in double that time. It would be down to me and Peeta to raise, guide and protect her until she was an adult herself. Could I actually do that? Could I really hold the responsibility of raising a child? And why was I using 'she'? I didn't even know if it was a boy or a girl.

Peeta finds me and sits down beside me. He pulls me onto his lap comfortingly.

"It's OK." he mutters, rocking me. This should calm me but it doesn't, it only makes me angry. Empty promises isn't what I need.

"No, it's not OK!" I scream at him, tears streaming. "Why did you do this? Do you really think we're capable of raising a child? How do you think her life will be like? Hounded around by cameras and reporters all her life. How do you think she'll turn out, Peeta? When her parents are both mentally incapacitated!"

Peeta flinches and his face shows his hurt but he knows better than to reply. We just sit in the rain. He rocks me gently. Neither of us say another word. I cry for another three hours before I eventually calm down, my breathing slows back down and my muscles unclench.

He lifts me up off the ground and carries me inside. As he carries me through the living room I see Haymitch's eyes. His eyes, full of pity and sadness. He knows me better than anyone. He knew in his heart that this would come.

Peeta lays me down in bed and sits by my side, holding my hand and murmuring to me, until I drift off to sleep. I'm woken up by he and Haymitch having a hushed discussion on the landing.

"I don't know what you're so stunned by, boy. Surely you knew this would happen?" Haymitch says in an almost superior tone.

"Not to that extent, no. She agreed, I thought she was ready for this." Peeta replies. I hear Haymitch laugh at him cruelly.

"Boy, you really don't know her at all, do you?" he says.

"You know you know her better than I do. So tell me, what _is _she feeling?" Peeta snaps back.

"You're blind to her. She agreed to this because she wanted to make _you_ happy. But I'll make it clearer shall I? Guilt. That's where this situation has come from, you made her feel guilty by pressuring her about it constantly. It got to her so much in the end, that she just let you get her knocked up. She did what _you_ wanted, to please _you_. Congratulations boy, I think this has got to be the biggest screw up I've ever witnessed." he hisses.

Peeta doesn't retort. I hear Haymitch stomp away, slamming his bedroom door behind him. I flinch at the loud bang. The bedroom door opens slightly and Peeta slips in but he doesn't take up his place beside me, he leans against the wall and looks at me.

"Katniss, I know you're awake." he sighs. "How much of that did you hear?"

"All of it." I mumble, pulling the blanket from my face.

"How . . . how much of it is true?" he asks hesitantly.

I sigh. The question rings in my head. How much of what Haymitch said is true?

"Some of it." I say regretfully. The look on Peeta's face shatters my heart.

"What bits of it were true then, Katniss?" he asks painfully.

"About me feeling guilty. I did feel guilty about not giving you what you wanted. But that was only part of why I agreed. I agreed because I knew I would never be any more ready than I am now. The fear isn't thinking that I won't be able to mother her. The fear is knowing that I _will_ love her, just like I loved Prim and Rue. I was too late to save them wasn't I? What if I'm too late to save her too?" I whisper, putting my head in my hands.

"The people who took Prim and Rue aren't here anymore, Katniss. They're gone. She can be safe with us. She doesn't have to fear getting reaped for the Games or starving to death, the world is different from when we were kids. All those things that threatened us are gone." he says softly.

I think of that world I was dreaming of in the Quarter Quell arena. The world where Peeta's child could be safe, free of reapings and starvation. Am I in that world? Peeta is right. Today, there is no abuse or food shortages. There is no whippings and suffering. But more importantly, today there is no Games. I won't have to watch my child's name get pulled from the reaping ball. I won't have to watch her get killed before my eyes.

I sigh and lay back down to sleep. Peeta crawls under the sheets beside me. Sleep evades us. After a while, Peeta breaks the silence.

"Katniss, why do you use 'she'? You don't know what it is, do you?" he asks.

"No. It's just a feeling. I think I'm having a girl." I reply. He doesn't question it.

Slowly, I slip off into sleep. I have another dream.

_I walk through the town. It's a beautiful day. The sky is an unbroken surface of blue, there's a warm breeze and the birds are singing. I look around for people but I have no company. Yet. _

_Further and further I walk until I reach the Meadow. Then in front of me, I see a slim, young girl with her back to me. About fifteen or sixteen years old. She's singing. She has a beautiful voice. Then I spot the mockingjays, perched up in the looming trees, listening to the girl. _

_Not all command that respect._

"_Who are you?" I ask, approaching her slowly. She turns to face me and I gasp. _

_Never have I seen someone so familiar, yet so rare._

_She is a stunning young woman, so beautiful and comely. She looks so much like my Peeta Mellark. She has long ashy blonde hair that flows to her waist and her skin is exquisite. Pale and unblemished. She's very slim and curvy. She's wearing a white, strapless dress that brushes her ankles. But her eyes draw in the most attention. Her brilliant blue eyes. So bright and captivating._

_She doesn't need to tell me who she is._

_I stand beside her and listen to her sing to the mockingjays. She's singing the Hanging Tree. Only she could make a depressing song like that sound so and bright. Her voice is wonderful, it reminds me of my father's. She falls silent and the birds pick up her tune. She looks at me sideways, her eyes willing me to sing. I sing a few lines alone then she joins me, singing a duo._

_The scene brightens into pure white . . ._

"Katniss are you alright?" Peeta asks nervously as he looks down on me, propped up on his elbow.

It's morning, the sun streaming through. I can hear the birds outside but I'm confused, stuck between my dream world and the real world.

"What . . what was I doing?" I ask, clearing my head.

"You were singing the Hanging Tree in your sleep." he says wryly. Then it all falls back into place.

"It was her." I murmur, clasping my stomach.

Peeta looks at me confusedly. I recount to him the whole dream. I tell him how beautiful she was, how perfect she was. I tell him about her voice and the mockingjays.

"Maybe it was a vision." Peeta says, leaning back against the headboard.

"Maybe . . ." I smile.


	5. Hope Poppy Alyssa Mellark

5 months later . . . .

The pain is crushing.

I've experienced all kinds of pain in my life. Cuts, broken bones, gun shot wounds, tracker jacker stings, burns, sprains, bruises, strangling, a whip lash, starvation, but nothing compares to this pain. It swallows up everything around me.

I lie on the bed, breathing heavily, trying to hold in my cries. Peeta is screaming at Haymitch to go and get someone. I'm not paying any attention to his words whatsoever. I just want someone more useful to come, like my doctor or a midwife or someone capable of delivering my baby. I just want this to end.

The contractions rack my body. I can't hold my tongue any more. I cry out constantly and with the time between I use my breath to scream all kinds of insulting things at Peeta. Very insulting things. He tries to keep his face blank but I can tell I'm just amusing him when I spit insults at him.  
After nearly a half an hour, Haymitch comes rushing back through the door with Dr Elkettan in tow. She says I'm having quite a fast labour. My child could be here within another hour or two.

"You had better love her, Peeta. We are not having any more." I hiss at him, teeth gritted.

"I pretty much had that sussed already," he says, giving me a wry smile. " . . when you said you were going to have me neutered like an animal."

"Perhaps you'll be able to make me change my mind. You always do normally." I say bitterly, rolling my eyes.

"It comes with being me."

"Arrogance doesn't suit you."

"I think Haymitch has that role covered anyway."

"True."

Another contraction surges over me. I yell until my lungs are empty of air. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to keep going for another few minutes, let alone hours. I feel so drained already.

"I'm tired, Peeta." I tell him plaintively.

"I know. It's not long left now." he says, holding my hand tightly.

"I'm not sure if I can do it." I say fearfully.

"If you can't, I don't know how the human race has survived this long." he says quietly.

I can't seem to find a reasonable answer to that so I stay quiet and watch the time slip by. As the minutes pass, the contractions get progressively worse. I pass out with the pain for a few seconds but it's enough for Peeta to fetch Elkettan.

Dr Alice Elkettan is a transfer from District 9. Our district has no properly established hospital yet, to my mother's disgust, so several healers were brought in for the mean time. They probably see a transfer here as a downgrade.

She examines me calmly then instructs me to start pushing. I push, strain, scream and cry and I feel like I'm getting absolutely nowhere. I feel so battered and beat. Peeta sits loyally by my side but he stays quiet. He knows that whispering empty words to me won't help.

Then I feel a weight lift and my pain dulls. Then a cry. A high pitched wail.

"Katniss." Peeta says, tears rolling down his cheeks. He touches the side of my face softly. "It's over, it's over."

Is it? Has my pain truly ended?

"It's a girl." Dr Elkettan says. She puts her in a small scales and her weight flashes up. Five pounds, six ounces. A little small. She wraps her up in a knitted white blanket from my mother.

Elkettan comes around to my right side and lays her down in my arms. I instantly feel a connection.

A natural instinct kicks in. The instinct to mother.

Though she's still a little red and damp, she looks just as I knew she would. Her head is full of ashy blonde curls and her eyes. Her eyes glowed like polished sapphires. Those eyes, exactly the same as Peeta's. So deep and bright.

Dr Elkettan slips out of the door and returns with Haymitch behind her. He sits on my right side quietly and looks at me.

"Are you OK?" he asks. I nod at him slowly. I regret it almost instantly. My world spins and my head pounds. I feel so weak and helpless.

He looks into the bundle in my arms and his eyes soften. Cold, hard, sarcastic, arrogant Haymitch Abernathy has turned soft.

"She could be you, Peeta." he snorts but Peeta isn't listening, his attentions are only for his newborn child.

"What do you want to call her, Katniss?" Peeta asks softly, looking into his daughter's eyes as though in some kind of trance.

Her name. What words can actually fit her? I think of the millions of names I had gone over. None of them seemed all that relevant at the time. I hadn't settled on one but the ones I took a particular liking to stuck in my head. Then I have it.

"Hope. Hope Poppy Alyssa Mellark."

"Perfect." he murmurs.


	6. Famous before she can talk

Next few chapters will be written in Peeta's POV. (His character seemed to suit it more.)

For the next week, Katniss, Haymitch and I don't leave the house. Dr. Elkettan left us after she swore to me that she wouldn't spill anything.

Only a single week has passed and they're here already. Outside our house, it's simply a sea of cameras and reporters. Over the years, interest in us has slowly receded but big events in our lives never slip out the public eye. This is no exception. There is no privacy as far as they are concerned. To them, Panem deserves to see the baby Mockingjay.

The baby Mockingjay. That's what they call her, my daughter. Katniss was furious when she saw it. Haymitch was merely accepting. I'm not sure how I felt about it. The name, 'the Mockingjay', seemed to belong to Katniss and to Katniss only. It didn't fit anyone else.

I lean against the green wall of our bedroom and watch over Katniss and Hope. Katniss has Hope in her arms, sitting up on the bed with Haymitch kicked back beside her. I can see Hope's fluffy blonde locks from here, exactly the same shade as mine. Katniss loves her eyes, _my eyes_. Her big, bright blue eyes.

Katniss's eyes are so soft, full of devotion. I've seen this before, when she was with Rue and Prim. That kind of love was reserved only for them. I can't begin to imagine the pain she felt at losing them both. That is a part of Katniss that I will never understand.

I open the curtains a fraction. The cameras immediately turn on me. The reporters onto me straight away. I jerk the curtain back hastily.

"I can't believe this." I mutter.

"I can." Katniss says.

"It's not fair." I say angrily. "Don't they think we've suffered the cameras enough?"

"People are nosy. It's just the way it is. Her parents are two of the most famous people in Panem. "Therefore," Haymitch pauses. " . . so is she."

"So what do we do?" I ask, peeking out the window again.

"I think we should just go out there, give them what they want." Katniss says quietly. Without thinking, I shoot her a reproachful look. Her response reminds me of an angry Buttercup. "What do you have in mind then, Peeta Mellark? You can't hide her away all her life. It isn't fair. You're just as as responsible for bringing her into this world as I am. We both knew what she would have to live with this. The sooner she gets used to it, the better."

As soon as I stepped out onto the porch, the amassed press pounces on me. No one ventures further than the steps of the porch though. Katniss, Hope and Haymitch are inside. They aren't coming out until I've finished speaking. I'm bombarded with questions.

"Has it arrived?"

"Is it a boy or a girl?"

"Where's Katniss?"

"Is she OK?"

"What's the baby's name?"

"Where's the baby, Peeta? We want to see her!"

"Quiet!" I shout, my patience snapping. The crowd fall into a stun silence. I breathe out calmingly.

"Katniss Mellark gave birth to a baby girl seven nights ago. Both of them are safe and well. She weighs five pounds, six ounces. She and Katniss will be out here after I have finished talking." I say as loudly and as firmly as I can. "But first I wanted to make a request of you all. I know this is being broadcast throughout Panem so I hope people are listening. Katniss and I have suffered through a lot in our lives, more than any of you here could even begin to imagine. We've found our peace here in the new Twelve. That's the way we want it to stay so we request that we now have privacy to raise our daughter. After this, we want you all to pack up and leave."

Other than the snaps of the cameras, it's completely silent. I sweep my eyes over the crowd, assessing the effect of my words. I reach behind me and slowly open the door. Katniss steps out, Hope tucked tightly in her arms. Haymitch is close behind her. A collective gasp goes up from the crowd. Katniss and Haymitch take up the place beside me and play for the cameras.

I pull Katniss into me and I can feel how edgy she is. Her eyes dart around wildly, scanning for signs of danger. Anything that could be a threat to her child. She finds none but that protective nervousness stays. She glances up at me for a second then lays Hope in my arms. Her blue eyes focus on me, a glint of confusion flitting across her tiny features then settling back. She could already recognize me. I smile happily and the cameras lap it up.

We stand for nearly another ten minutes. Hope moves between Katniss and I then Katniss gives her to Haymitch. I tense up, almost expecting him to recoil, but he doesn't. He takes her carefully, cradling her in his arms. I think of the little brother that Katniss had told me about. Haymitch had later shared with us that his name was Ellis, tracked down and killed by some hired Capitol assassins. I wonder about their bond. Was it more like the bond between my younger brother and I or more like Katniss and Prim? I meet Haymitch's eyes, glistening with tears, and by some unspoken agreement, Haymitch and Katniss file back into the house. I cast an eye over the crowd then follow up behind her. Some people in the crowd clap and whistle but all I can wonder is if they will actually abide to our wishes and leave us alone.


	7. Growing up Fast

Three years later . . . .

Peeta's POV

"Mummy! Daddy! Wake up!" Hope cries, bouncing on the edge of our bed. "We have to get up and go to school."

I sit up and grab her by her hips, she squeals playfully. I pull her onto my lap and brush her ashy blonde locks from her eyes. Her blue eyes sparkle excitedly up at me. She was buzzing with excitement. Of course she was. First day of school. Kids start school at the age of three in Panem. I glance at the clock on my bedside cabinet.

"Hope, it's six in the morning." I tell her.

"Mummy is _always_ up earlier than that." she says in a knowing tone.

"Fair point." Katniss yawns, shaking her long dark hair. "Hope, go and have a wash. I'll be in there with your uniform in a minute."

Hope bounces out of our room like a lightning bolt. I flop back against the mattress.

"Haymitch won't be happy, waking him up at six in the morning." I sigh, stretching.

"Don't be stupid, you know Haymitch lets Hope get away with everything." Katniss snorts, slipping out of bed and rifling through her side of the wardrobe. "He wouldn't live in the Mellark household if he couldn't put up with early mornings."

"Me with the bakery, you with your hunting, Hope with her . . . energy?" I say wryly.

"Hyperactivity." Katniss snorts, pulling on a thin cream jumper and pale blue jeans. "Are you going to the bakery today?"

"After we take Hope to school, yes. What about you?"

"I don't know." she says uncomfortably. I sense the pain and sadness in her voice. Pulling the covers off, I get out of bed and go up behind her. Her beautiful silver eyes look too bright to me. I take her hand carefully.

"What's the matter?" I ask softly.

"It seems like I've closed my eyes for three seconds and three years have passed. She's not so little any more, Peeta. I've spent three years at home, caring for her. It made me feel so . . . so _needed_. But she doesn't need me so much now. I miss it. What do I do with my days?" she whispers, a few tears slipping down her cheeks. I pull her into my arms and let her cry, her head resting on my chest.

"There is only one thing that can get rid of that hurt, Katniss." I say, stroking her hair.

"Having another." she says, her voice muffled. "I know. I've thought about it."

"You have?" I ask incredulously. We hear the water flow in the bathroom stop.

"Talk about it later." Katniss says, breaking away.

She goes back to the wardrobe and pulls out Hope's uniform. A bottle green cardigan with a pick axe stitched in gold thread on the front pocket, a white shirt, a black skirt, black shoes and green and gold hair bands. All the districts had the same school uniforms. The only thing that differed was the badge. The badge depended on what your district's main industry was. District 12 is a pickaxe, One is a crown, Four is an anchor and so on.

I follow Katniss into Hope's bedroom where she sits on her small bed. Katniss helps her dress into her uniform. I lean against the door frame and watch her them together. She sits Hope down on her vanity table and brushes out her long ashy blonde hair. Katniss hesitates for a second then delicately ties Hope's hair into two braids.

I'm sucked into a memory of another young girl, another first day of school. I remember my father pointing out the little girl with dark hair and Seam grey eyes. A girl wearing a red plaid dress. I remember the girl standing on a stool in music, singing the Valley Song. Her beautiful voice ringing out. The mockingjays stopping to listen to her. _Katniss._

I snap out of the vision. Hope slides of the chair and comes over to me. I bend down and put my hands on her shoulders.

"You know, you look just like your mother." I tell her, looking into her deep eyes.

"Please. She looks nothing like her." Haymitch says, stumbling in.

"Haymitch!" Hope squeals happily, diving for him.

He swings her up into his arms and rests her on his hip carefully. She laughs happily.

"You look beautiful, sweetheart." Haymitch says, bouncing her.

"Do I?" she asks, fluttering her golden eyelashes.

"You'll have all the boys chasing, Hope."

"I'm too young for boys yet, Haymitch." she says superiorly.

"Really?" Haymitch says, giving me a look. "Who told you that?"

"Daddy." Katniss and Hope say.

"Come on. We had better get breakfast if we want to get there on time." Katniss says.


	8. Here we go again

That evening . .

Peeta's POV

Hope is asleep upstairs, Haymitch is in his room. It's time for us to talk. I know the drill with Katniss. Start off small and slow. If she wants to discuss the big matters, she'll bring it up herself. I go into the bedroom. Katniss is curled up on the wicker sofa in the corner of our room with Buttercup, reading a book. She drops the book when she sees me and moves Buttercup from her lap. The cat hisses and streaks off downstairs. I sit beside her and she nestles into me.

"What was your day like, Katniss?" I ask, circling my arm around her shoulders.

"Not great." she says sadly. "Lonely."

"You should of stayed with me at the bakery." I say, brushing a hand across her cheek.

"That's no long term solution is it?" she says, her eyes wandering out to the stars.

"Then what is? Having another baby?" I challenge. She tenses up.

So much for starting off slow.

"Is that what you want, Katniss?"

"Only if you do." she says, her silver eyes looking up at mine.

"Yes." I whisper. "I want that."

"Good." she smiles, pushing me backwards onto the bed.

A month later . . .

I jolt awake to a sharp movement. I snap my head to my left and I just see Katniss flying out the bedroom. That was familiar. Not good that she was sick but it probably meant she was pregnant. Katniss had suffered terribly with morning sickness when she was pregnant with Hope. A warm joy fills me up. We might be having another child.

"Here we go again." I mutter as I follow her into the bathroom.

I open the bathroom door slowly. Katniss is knelt on the cold bathroom floor, hanging over the toilet bowl, vomiting up everything in her stomach. I drop to her side, pull her hair to the side and pat her back with my free hand. After a minute or two, her body slackens. She stands, flushes the toilet, closes the lid and perches on the edge of it.

"Congratulations, Peeta. You've got me pregnant again." she says. I prepared myself for her to lunge for the door but she doesn't. She looks up at me, a smile slowly spreading across her face. I grin back at her and pull her into my arms.

"I'll call the doctors surgery in a few hours." I say.

"Do you think Hope would have heard any of that?" she asks.

"No." I snort. "She sleeps like a log."

There's a brisk knock at the door. At first I thought I had imagined it then the look on Katniss's face confirmed it. I break away from her.

"Hope?" I call. Katniss rolls her eyes at me.

"I think that Hope would just come in if she wanted to be in here." she says. "Haymitch, come in."

Haymitch put his head around the door, his grey eyes assessing the scene.

"Why aren't you asleep?" I ask him, feeling the pressure.

"It's kind of hard to sleep when she's chucking her guts up next door." he says. Katniss flushes a little. "You're knocked up again aren't you?"

Katniss eyes flicker up to Haymitch then she drops his gaze. She looks like a shamed child. She nods. A long silence follows.

"Where's the snide comment then?" I say finally, breaking the silence. Haymitch looks at me oddly.

"I don't have a leg to stand on. There's nothing to mock. You've done perfectly well with her. You're both good parents." he shrugs. He smiles wryly at us. "Now they'll be another one for me to keep my eye on."

He nods at us finally then leaves.

"That went well." I breathe out.

"Maybe we should try and do things unplanned. It always seems to work out better." she says.

"Do you want to go back to sleep?" I ask, glancing at the orange-tinted sky.

"I don't think I could."

"Just try. You need all your energy now." I say softly, taking her hand. Unresisting, I lead her back to bed and tuck her up under the soft covers. She curls up in a ball tightly and her eyelids flutter shut and within minutes, she's fast asleep.

I lie back beside her. I could never have predicted my life to turn this way. Maybe my younger self would have thought it to be something in his dreams, far away from his reach. In a way, the Games gave me my family. I would never have pursued Katniss's heart had it not been for the Games. The opportunity would never have presented itself. I would have ended up with a merchant girl, arranged by my parents. It could even have been Delly Cartwright.

My thoughts wander to my unborn child. A son or a daughter? Katniss had known from the beginning that Hope was a girl. She had known that Hope would have the blonde hair and blue eyes. She didn't know how she knew, it was just in her head. I wonder if she knows what her second child is.

I sigh happily and I drift off to sleep.


	9. One step forward, Two steps back

Three weeks later . . . .

Peeta's POV

"No."

"Katniss, y-"

"No, Peeta. I'm not going."

I feel my patience starting to reach breaking point. District 12 has a hospital now, built almost two years after Hope's birth. There are no home services, that's where you go to now. Only Katniss won't except it. More importantly, she won't go to the hospital.

"Listen to me." I snap. She looks away but I grab her chin and force her to look into my eyes. "No, you listen to me, Katniss! I know you don't want to go but how would you feel, when you have the baby, if we found out there was something wrong with it that could have been solved had you just complied? How do you feel about knowing that if you don't go, you'll have to give birth here without any professional help? You could even be carrying twins and you wouldn't know it until it was too late."

"Peeta, you know why I can't go." she whispers, tears brimming.

"You think you're the only one with bad memories? You think there that it doesn't mean anything for me either?" I say, my voice rising to a shout. "Yeah well, hospital rooms remind me of the torture rooms that they threw me in. The ones where they whipped me until there was no skin left on my back, the ones where they electrocuted me. That room full of jabberjays, the room where they tried to drown me, the one where they put the venom in. I bet you weren't _tortured_ were you? You lost your sister. _I lost my whole family! _Can't you ju-"

The look on Katniss's face stops my rant. Katniss has tears streaming down her face, the fear and pain in her eyes showing openly.

_What have I done? _

She runs from the kitchen and I hear the lock bolt on the bedroom door. I steady myself against the counters and try and recall what I had just said to Katniss, the words come swimming back into my head. And I'm disgusted with myself. I just graded my loss more important that Katniss's. Losing Prim nearly broke her apart and I hardly mourned for my family at all.

Have _I_ just broken her?

I sink to the floor and sob. I hear Haymitch and Hope in the living room. Chances are, I was shouting loud enough for my baby girl to have heard all of it. I think of the box Katniss and I had compiled while she was pregnant. It contained everything Hope would need to know when the time came. It had the footage of the 74th and 75th games, the Victory Tour, photos of us and propaganda from the rebellion. It also contains letters that we wrote, describing our own personal experiences from that time. Katniss's mockingjay pin and dress are in the box too. When Hope reaches the age of eleven, she would be shown everything inside that box. The truth about who we are, who _she_ is, would be revealed to her. We were dreading it, shattering the happy illusion that she lived in.

"Haymitch?" I hear her ask.

I get up off the floor and peek into the living room. Hope is sitting on the rug in front of the fire playing with her plastic horses. Haymitch is sat on the sofa, watching over her.

"Yeah, sweetheart?"

"What are Mummy and Daddy arguing about?" she asks innocently. My blood runs cold.

"I don't know, sweetheart. Sometimes, people do fight though they still love each other. You can't ever agree with each other on everything." he replies smoothly.

Hope nods and returns to her horses. Haymitch's eyes glide over to where I'm standing. He gives me a slight nod.

"Hope, why don't you go upstairs and play for a bit? I need to . ." He swallows nervously, racking his brain for a good reason. "I need to go and tend to my geese. I don't really want to leave you here by the fire. It's dangerous."

It's a lame reason but Hope just takes it and flounces upstairs. He sighs in relief.

"Going to tend the geese?" I say, taking the opposite armchair up.

"It seemed better than telling her I was going to give her father a grilling." he growls.

"You heard it?" I ask weakly.

"All of it." he looks up at me and shakes his head. "Why on _earth_ did you say that to her?"

"I don't know. I . . ." I trail off.

"Didn't mean it? No, I know you didn't mean it. Peeta Mellark in his right mind would never of said that and she knows it. She must have been testing your patience about the hospital thing."

"I just got so angry . . . Haymitch what do I do? She won't forgive me for this."

"Apologise. She'll come through."

"Could you keep Hope occupied for me?"

"Of course."

I rise from the armchair and go up the stairs, Haymitch close behind me. He goes into Hope's room and takes her downstairs. A few minutes pass and I hear the front door slam. He must have taken her out somewhere.

"Katniss?" I call, knocking on the door. I don't even try the handle. She'll definitely have it locked.

"Peeta, please. Just leave me alone." she says in a small voice.

I sigh and sit on the soft carpet. I stay there for hours, she doesn't unlock the door. I listen to her heart breaking cries. She hasn't cried this hard in years. Haymitch comes back nearly two hours later and tries his hardest to keep Hope occupied but she's a curious girl. By the time it's Hope's bed time, Katniss still doesn't come out. Katniss always puts Hope to bed. Sometimes she even sings. But tonight, she doesn't turn up and Hope notes it. She doesn't throw a tantrum but I can tell it kind of hurt her feelings. More hours slip by, my eyelids starting to droop.

"Katniss, please let me in." I say, pressing my forehead against the door.

"It's open."

I go in. The curtains are drawn, the plates of food I brought her a few hours ago lay untouched by the door. Katniss sits on the bed, huddled in the sheets. Her cheeks are flushed and there's tear tracks all down her face. Her grey eyes are red and puffy.

I sit on the edge of the bed and she crawls over onto my lap. I lay my head on top of hers. She starts crying again. I screw my eyes shut, I can't bear it anymore.

"I'm so sorry, Katniss."

"Why? Why did you say it?" she asks quietly.

"I don't know." I murmur, burying in her hair.

"I know you didn't mean it, Peeta. Maybe we're both too stubborn to give in." she says, curling a lock of my hair around her finger. I reach around her and place my hand on her stomach.

"Hospitals scare you, I know. If there was any other option I would take it up, but there isn't. We have to do what's best for him. It's not just about us anymore." I whisper to her.

"You're right. I'll go." she sighs. "I love you."

"I love you to." I tell her. She drifts off to sleep in my arms and eventually, I do too.


	10. This isn't Goodbye

Seven months later . . . .

Peeta's POV

"Daddy, what's going on?"

"Hope, go and play in your room or something." I say, trying to subtly move her from my way.

"Where's Mummy?"

"Hope please . ." I say warningly.

"But Dad-"

"Get out of the way, Hope!" I shout at her. I immediately want to take it back.

I had never shouted at her in her life. She jumps back from me hastily. Her bright blue eyes fill up with tears and her hurt shows. All the colour in her cheeks has drained away. Hope had, so far, been raised as an only child and all her needs had been taken care of instantly. We had plenty of time for her. She wasn't used to having things not explained to her.

"Hope, I-" I falter.

"Get away!" she shrieks, shrinking away from my extended hand. She flees upstairs to her bedroom. I feel awful. It isn't Hope's fault that we're all under strain.

She misses her mother. Katniss had been in labour for over two days now. She's been in terrible pain and all I can do is sit by and watch her suffer. Hope hasn't been allowed to see her because of the state she's in and Hope is getting frustrated. She doesn't really understand.

I grab a blanket from the sofa. I'd been leaving Hope in Haymitch's care and staying with Katniss at the hospital for most of the day. I couldn't face leaving her alone there. Her stay hadn't dulled her potent fear of hospitals. In the corner of my eye, I catch Haymitch leaning against the door frame.

"You're not staying tonight?" he asks, watching me stuff things into a rucksack.

"I can't. I can't leave her on her own." I mutter.

"I know." he says sadly, shaking his head. "Has Hope eaten?"

"No." I say, my cheeks burning in shame. I hadn't even given that a thought.

"I'll take her down to Sae's. I don't trust myself to make something for her."

"She's not too happy. I . . I shouted at her." I swallow painfully.

"She'll get over it."

"I hope so." I sigh, hoisting the bag onto my shoulders and closing the front door behind me. It's what I call, the blue hours. Those hours where the sun hasn't quite set, turning the sky a midnight blue. Perfect for landscape scenes.

I power through the quiet town, the steel shutters on the shops locked down. It's unusual to see the town so deserted. It's usually buzzing with life and sound. I let my mind wander and the image of Hope's face slip into my mind. My heart pangs with guilt. She must think her parents have abandoned her. I rub my temples and try and snap my head into present.

Breathing out slowly, I carry on walking to the hospital. I reach the gates and slip into the cool reception quietly. The night receptionist looks up at me questioningly. I bet she didn't expect anyone tonight.

"Can I help you, sir?" she asks politely, blinking her dark brown hair from her eyes.

"I'm here to see my wife." I tell her.

"Name?" she enquires, powering up the computer system.

"Peeta Mellark." The receptionist types in codes on the keyboards.

"Okay. Go right in. I have to tell you to be quiet though. Most of our patients are asleep by now though I very much doubt your wife is." she says, giving me a sympathetic smile.

I pass the desk and go straight up the hall. The hospital is completely silent, only my own footsteps breaking the silence. I enter the mothers unit and stop in the office. I retrieve her key and search out her room number. I open the door slowly in case she is asleep but I heavily doubt it. To my surprise, she is asleep.

Katniss looks so small and fragile in her bed, her swollen stomach prominent on her thin body. Her skin is pale and sallow. Her dark hair is slick with sweat. She must have hardly any energy left at all. I wouldn't bring Hope in here even if it meant saving her feelings.

I curl up on the stiff armchair beside her and pull the woolly blanket around me. I'm exhausted and sleep takes me almost instantly. When I wake, it's late morning. Katniss is wide awake.

"Hey." she says, a smile creeping onto her face.

"Hey." I say, stretching out.

"I didn't hear you come in last night."

"You were asleep. I didn't want to wake you. You looked . . . " I trail off.

"Ill? Yeah, I feel it." she sighs.

"I know." I say sympathetically, taking her hand.

"How's Hope?" she asks, curling a lock of her hair around her fingers absent-mindedly. I lower my eyes and look away. She bristles angrily. "Peeta, how is she?"

"She misses you, Katniss. She's just so frustrated because no one's properly explained where her mother is and where her father goes. I don't have the time that she needs from us. Not with you here. And I . . . " I whisper. "I was trying to do things and she was asking me questions and I just . . snapped. I shouted at her. Told her to go away."

"And I can't forget it. I can't forget the look in her eyes. Even I couldn't believe I had done it. It's not her fault, Katniss, I know it's not." I tell her, my heart wrenching painfully.

"She'll be OK, Peeta." she says calmly. "I can guarantee you she'll be doing plenty of shouting herself when she's older."

I go to answer to her but a contraction crashes onto her. Her face flushes red and she grits her teeth. It lasts just over a minute before she relaxes back against the pillows and for the first time during this whole thing, she cries. Her tears flow thick and fast down her cheeks. I can't stand it. This Katniss doesn't compare with the strong, beautiful, seemingly all-powerful one that I know. I try my hardest to comfort her but I don't seem to have even the slightest impact on her. After nearly two hours, she cries herself out and slips into a fitful sleep. I feel completely emotionally drained after this. I want it over almost as much as she does.

There's a quiet knock at the door and Katniss's doctor, Dr. Tresser, puts his head around the door. His eyes sweep Katniss's sleeping form up and down then he beckons to me. I slip quietly out of the room after him. Dr. Tresser leans against the wall outside her door. I look at him, fearing what he has to say.

"Look, I've delayed this as long as I can now. It's been nearly three days. We can't let her carry on naturally anymore. The longer we wait, the higher the risk that something will happen to her or the child. We're going to have to operate on her." he sighs.

"Operate?" I say confusedly.

"A caesarean section. It involves sedating her and cutting the baby out of her womb." I look at him in horror. "It sounds bad, I know, but it's far better than letting Mrs Mellark suffer her way through this. She'll be fully anaesthetised for the whole thing. We don't want to take chances."

"What are the risks?" I ask apprehensively, folding my arms.

"It can be risky though they are commonly performed in the Capitol. The risks include infection of the wound, blood clots and adhesions. What we're most worried about with her is excess bleeding. She's lost a lot of blood already."

"What about the baby?"

"We can't guarantee the parents that the baby won't get injured. It's rare, of course. Some suffer with breathing difficulties too. Not many cases are serious but some have to spend time in special care."

My mind is spinning. What a decision to make. I agree and get Katniss sent to surgery with the risk she might lose too much blood, along with all other kinds of possible complications and after effects. I refuse and she'll suffer, potentially paying with both their lives. She would never forgive me if she lost the baby because of it.

I'm risking her life whichever I choose.

"We have to warn you about PTSD as well." he says, surfacing me from my thoughts.

"What's that?"

"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It's caused by an array of different things. Things like an experience involving the threat of death or serious injury to an individual or another person close to them, persistent re-experiencing of the event by way of recurrent intrusive memories, flashbacks and nightmares and bad memories and the need to avoid any reminders of the trauma. Causes for it after childbirth include a lengthy labour, a very painful labour, traumatic deliveries, fear for the baby's safety, the baby's stay in NICU and previous trauma. As you probably realise, your wife has a very high risk of taking it on now." he says gravely.

"Does Katniss get a say in whether she has this caesarean or not?" I ask in an almost defensive tone.

"Of course she does though the longer we debate it, the higher the risks climb."

"Just do it. I can't watch her suffer anymore." I say, resigned. He pats my shoulder sympathetically.

"The operating rooms are mostly empty so she can go right in. We'll sedate her within the next twenty minutes." he informs me. "Do you want me to explain it to her or will you be alright on your own?"

"I'll do it myself." I say firmly. He nods and turns his back on me, walking away down the hallway.

I take a breath and go back into the room. Katniss is awake again, her eyes fixed on me.

"What are they going to do to me?" she asks immediately as though she can see straight through me. I sigh and sink to her side.

"They're going to operate on you. Cut the baby out of you." I tell her.

"And you consented to this without asking me first?" she says accusingly.

"I can't watch you suffer anymore, Katniss. Try and understand."

"Don't tell me the risks. Knowing them won't make any difference to whether I live or die." she says soberly.

"Please don't talk like that, please don't." I beg, fighting back tears. I take her hand and press it against my face.

"I love you, Peeta. Don't ever forget it. You've made me all I was meant to be." she says softly.

"You're making it sound like a farewell."

"I'll try my best to make sure it isn't."

"You'd better." I mumble.

"Just . . . just promise me one thing, in case I do go."

"Anything."

"Don't spend the rest of your years moping around after me. I know it would be hard to move on after all this but you have to promise me. They'll need you. Hope and . . . Aster. That's what I want you to call him if it is a boy. Aster Hunter Phoenix Mellark."

"You'll do it yourself. This isn't goodbye."

"Of course." she says quietly.

We don't say anything else though we stay linked with each other. Our last minutes fly by too fast and the next thing, Tresser is injecting the anaesthetic into her drip. I focus on her silver eyes, glowing like the stars in the sky. After a few minutes, her eyes flutter shut.


	11. Aster Hunter Phoenix Mellark

Peeta's POV

I pace up and down outside the operating theatre's window, never letting my eye stray from Katniss's limp body. Tresser's words flood into my mind.

_'What we're most worried about with her is excess bleeding. She's lost a lot of blood already.'_

That's all there seemed to be. Blood. It was all over the surgeon's hands as they sliced through her. I bite my nails like it's a reflex. I actually hate it when Katniss bites her nails but now it's all I can do not to bite my own down to the stubs.

The surgeons are working faster than I had expected on her. They're under pressure too. I can tell. They all keep glancing at her monitors more than is necessary. It's almost as if they're _waiting_ for her heart to stop beating. But it wouldn't. It _couldn't_. She couldn't just leave me.

As the minutes pass by, they cut further and further into her stomach. Eventually, they reach the baby. I can tell by the change in the surgeon's expressions, much more urgent and delicate. I want to look away but I can't tear my eyes away from her. They start pulling at her insides, pushing on her swollen abdomen. They pull out my second child from Katniss.

A boy, I hear Tresser call. A son. Aster Hunter Orion Mellark. They hurry him away from Katniss's body quickly and a worry tugs at my heart. I don't hear any cries. When Hope came out, she had screamed the house down and I knew that was mostly customary for all babies. But Aster was silent, not even the slightest cry came from him. I pressed my face against the glass and focused my eyes on my son. A trio of nurses crowded around him, working on him urgently.

_Cry, Aster, cry. _I will him in my head.

And he does. A familiar, high pitched wail. The nurses wrap him up tightly in a sterile, white blanket and lay him down in a see-through plastic crib. Two of the nurses wheel him out of the theatre and stopped in front of me to let me see. His skin glows with a reddish tint. Like his elder sister, he already had quite a bit of hair but it wasn't blonde. It was a dark brown, the exact same shade that belonged to his mother. He shared mine and Hope's eyes though. Not the supposed baby blue but the deeper, sky blue, Mellark eyes.

"Is he OK?" I ask the nurse with the carrot-coloured hair drawn back into a tight bun.

"Yes. No breathing difficulties or nicks from the tools. Nothing wrong with him at all. He weighs a healthy seven pounds, three ounces." she smiles kindly. "I'm taking him to have a proper examination if you'd like to accompany him."

I cast my eyes back to Katniss's form, laying on the cold, hard table. The surgeons are beginning to stitch her up now.

"I know she doesn't know I'm here but," I sigh. "I can't leave her."

"I understand." she says, bobbing her head. The pair trot off down the hall, pushing Aster in front of them.

"Wait." I call. They turn around. "Why didn't he cry straight away?"

"Some are slower than others." the older nurse with the short dark hair shrugs. "Some are just quiet."

I nod and they carry on back down the hall. I return my attentions to Katniss. The surgeons are rushing around her frantically. My eyes dart to her monitors and the numbers are dropping.

_No, no, no!_

My heart pounds painfully in my chest. This can't actually be the way it ends. To have survived the Seam, two Hunger Games and a full scale war, just to die in something as simple as childbirth. Dr. Tresser works hastily on her, stitching her up, while his colleagues rush around stabilizing her. Tresser's eyes constantly flick between the stitches and Katniss's weak vital signs. After another five minutes, he snips the thread triumphantly and commands his helpers to move Katniss onto her waiting hospital bed. They lift her off and hurry her down the hall, past me, to her room. I follow them, panic spreading through my system. I burst through the door and fly to her side before any of them can stop me. They don't move in my path anyway.

"How did it go? Will she be OK?" I ask him breathlessly, taking hold of her limp hand and feeling her weak pulse drumming against my fingers.

"She's lucky to be alive. She lost more blood than I had hoped for. She's a fighter, that one." he says in what could be an admiring tone.

Tell me something I didn't know.

"She'll be OK though?" I ask, my worry slowly draining away.

"Mrs Mellark isn't quite out of the woods yet, she may need a blood transfusion, but she's done well. The effects on the anaesthesia will wear off soon and she can see her son. As for him he's having a thorough check over but you can go and see him now if you'd like." Tresser says, taking notes on a clipboard.

"She won't wake up for a few minutes?" I ask, looking at her pale, expressionless face

"No. There's enough time for you to slip off and see your son before she wakes up." the doctor smiles, leaving me alone with her.

I squeeze Katniss's cold hand and find my newborn son in a room a few doors down. A lone nurse is tending him. I sanitize my hands and approach his cot. The nurse must recognise me because she doesn't question my identity. I reach out and touch his soft, unblemished skin and his tiny hand grapples onto mine. He was much stronger than I had expected.

"Aster." I tell him, a smile spreading across my face. His blue eyes slowly open and flicker in my direction. Aster couldn't see much at this point, couldn't make out anything. The nurse answers the question before it comes out of my mouth.

"He recognises your voice. He would have heard you while his mother was carrying him." the nurse says, digging out a medical band and a pen. "Aster. Is that his name?"

"Yes. Aster Hunter Phoenix Mellark. His name is quite long." I say proudly, touching his tufty dark brown locks carefully.

"Oh, he's-" the nurse says but something cuts her off.

A blood curdling scream rings out. Aster's eyes fly open and they dart around wildly but he doesn't cry. Tough kid. All of the other newborns around him are.

"Katniss." I breathe. I hurtle back to her room and she's awake. The anaesthetic clearly wore off quicker than Tresser and the nurses had anticipated. Her eyes are wide with fear and panic, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Katniss, it's alright." I cry, taking her face in my hands, making her look into my eyes.

She registers me and her breathing slows down considerably. She grabs my wrist. Dr. Tresser charges through the door.

"What happened?" he demands.

"She woke up from the anaesthetic early, I think." I say. The doctor seems to calm down and he checks Katniss's vitals.

"Some people wake up from the sedation more abruptly than others." he says simply, then leaves.

"Peeta, where is he?" Katniss asks me urgently.

"He's OK. They're just checking Aster over. He weighs seven pounds, three ounces. They'll bring him to you now." I tell Katniss soothingly. She relaxes her iron grip on my wrist.

"So it is an Aster." she says finally.

"He looks just like you. I was worried when they first took him out. He didn't cry at all. I was convinced there was something wrong with him." I tell her softly. "But he's fine. He's just quiet."

"Did you hold him?"

"No. I wanted to let you go first."

"You didn't have to do that." she says. "He's your son just as much as he is mine."

"Yes, but you went through all of this for him." I say, thinking of her lying on the table.

There's a knock on the door and the nurse that had been tending Aster a few minutes ago came through the door, carrying Aster is his small cot. She sets the cot down on the metal frame at the foot of the bed and lifts Aster out. The nurse lies him down gently in Katniss's arms then leaves us alone. Katniss hugs him up tightly to her, running a finger over his dark hair.

"Happy now?" I ask her, letting Aster cling to one of my fingers.

"The happiest." she smiles contentedly.


	12. Remembering

(This chapter is kind of unnecessary to the events but I needed to fill in the gap between Aster's birth to the next chapter.)

A year later . .

Katniss's POV

"Bed time, Hope." I call.

"But Mum-"

"No buts. It's late, for you, already." I tell her firmly, glancing at the clock.

"No!" she says mischievously, darting off.

She thinks she can out run me? Cute. Very cute.

I stride after her and catch her by the waist. I lift her up into my arms easily, her long, wet, curly hair tickling my face.

"Caught you." I mumble into her ear, she giggles. I carry her upstairs and off load her on her bed. She laughs hysterically, her blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

"Shush now. You'll wake Aster." I say quietly. She calms down and snuggles under the blankets. I draw the curtains and perch on the end of her bed.

"Night, Mummy." she says.

"Goodnight, Hope." I murmur, stroking her damp blonde hair. She falls asleep almost instantly but I don't leave. I just sit by her side, running my hand over her hair. I find myself singing softly to her. A lullaby my mother had sung to me once upon a time.

_I remember tears streaming down your face_

_When I said, "I'll never let you go"_

_When all those shadows almost killed your light._

_I remember you said, "Don't leave me here alone"_

_But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight_

_Just close your eyes_

_The sun is going down_

_You'll be alright_

_No one can hurt you now_

_Come morning light_

_You and I'll be safe and sound._

_Don't you dare look out your window, darling, _

_Everything's on fire_

_The war outside our door keeps raging on_

_Hold on to this lullaby_

_Even when music's gone, gone. _

_Just close your eyes_

_The sun is going down_

_You'll be alright_

_No one can hurt you now_

_Come morning light_

_You and I'll be safe and sound. _

_Just close your eyes_

_You'll be alright._

_Come morning light, _

_You and I'll be safe and sound._

"It's beautiful." I hear Peeta say in a hushed voice. "Is she asleep?"

"Yes." I reply, brushing away my tears quickly. I ease myself off her bed and close the door.

"Dinner's ready." he says. He hesitates for a second then leans in and kisses me. I wrap my arms around his neck and let his warmth spread through me.

"Dinner will be cold now." I whisper when we finally break apart. He snorts.

We go downstairs and into the dining room where Haymitch waits. Peeta puts a bowl of lamb stew in front of me, my favourite. Normally. Now, the sight of it makes me feel sick. Peeta and Haymitch are wolfing down theirs. I can't even force myself to swallow one spoonful. I push it away.

"What's the matter, Katniss? Lamb stew is your favourite." Peeta asks me, worry ringing in his tone.

"I . . . I'm not hungry." I say, shocked with myself. Two pairs of suspicious eyes fall on me.

Unable to face that questioning look in their eyes, I excuse myself from the table and go into our room. I pace up and down, coming out in a cold sweat.

What's _wrong_ with me?

_You know what's wrong with you. _I tell myself in my head.

I hear Peeta's heavy tread pounding up the staircase. I dive under the sheets, pretending to be asleep. He comes in and I turn my back on him. It doesn't help. He comes around and sits on the edge of the bed.

"What's wrong with you, Katniss? You're tired, your emotions are all over the place and you're off your food." he says quietly.

"No. Don't you even suggest it." I say harshly.

"It's not like we haven't had-"

"I know!" I snap at him. He goes to leave but I call him back guiltily. "Wait. I'm sorry."

He kneels by my side and threads his fingers in mine.

"Even if that is . . ," he says softly. I look away but he catches my chin. "Even if that is the case, you can't hide from it. You need to find out for certain and then . . . then we'll deal with it."

A shiver runs up and down my spine. The way he said "deal with it." didn't sound like the right words to use.

"Are you hungry?" he asks after I stay silent.

"No." I say, closing my eyes. Even though I can't see him, I can tell he has a disapproving look on his face. "I just want to go to sleep."

"You need to _eat_."

"One day won't kill me."

"I'll leave you to sleep then." he says, smoothing a lock of my hair out.

"Wait." I pull myself out of the warm sheets and out onto the landing. I go into Aster's room and approach his cot. I touch the side of his small pale face, feeling his silky, dark hair against my fingers. Peeta wraps his arms around my waist. A question, preying on me ever since Aster's birth, finally slips out.

"I know you come in here and see him when you wake up in the night. I watch you with him almost every time." he stiffens up against me. I turn around and face him. His face is tight and a misty look has fallen over his eyes. The expression is all too familiar. "Why? What comfort do you find in him that you can't find in me or Hope?"

"Him with Hope makes me think of my siblings. Of Yestin and Ryen. He . . he just reminds me of them both and more importantly, that they aren't here. I wonder if it's a pass off sometimes. Lose my birth family and get another, my own, in place." he says sadly, his eyes glistening with tears. "The one thing I never doubt is it's worth. What you've given me is priceless, Katniss. Even if I had the option to pick, I would always go with what I have now. I wouldn't give you or Hope or Aster up for the world. _You_ are my world."

"Just saying 'I love you' seems pretty lacking after all of that." I say. I bury into his chest, feeling the strong, steady pounding of his heart.

"Does . . . " he goes to ask something but he stops, seemingly thinking better of it.

"Whatever you were going to ask, just ask. There's nothing that I won't share with you." I say tiredly.

"Does Hope remind you of Prim at all?" he asks apprehensively.

"I suppose she should, with the fair hair and blue eyes, but no. Not at all." I tell him truthfully. He nods. Carefully, he lifts me off my feet and up into his arms. I don't take that feeling, having his strong arms encasing me, for granted anymore. He carries me back into our room and lays me down on the bed. He pulls the blanket up to our chins and I curl up beside him.

"You won't ever leave me, will you?" I say, my mind starting to slow down.

"Leave my family? All I love? Never." he says, pulling me closer to him. "You don't have to worry about that."

Encased in his arms, I succumb to sleep.


	13. You don't understand

The next day . . .

Katniss's POV

"Hope, do you want to go and see the Emersons or not?" I snap impatiently, taking Aster's hand.

"Yes." she says indignantly, coming from the kitchen. "I was just getting my shoes on."

"Come on then." I say, retrieving her jacket from her hook in the hall.

"Isn't Daddy coming?" she asks, preoccupied doing up the straps on her boots.

"He's at work, you know that. We'll see him later." I tell her, tightening her ponytail up. I grab my satchel from my hook and we finally leave the house.

Delly Cartwright married a boy from Thirteen nearly eight years ago, Max Emerson. They have a son who was born a year before I had Hope. His name is Ruben. He and Hope have known each other since birth, Delly being Peeta's best friend. It's not uncommon for us to visit each other for them to play.

When we reach the Emerson's house, Delly opens the door to us.

"Katniss!" Delly squeals happily and she pulls me into a bone crushing hug. I had learnt why Delly and Peeta got along so well, their natures were so similar.

"It's good to see you too." I laugh.

"Come in, come in." she trills, ushering us in. "Ruben! Hope's here."

I hear him bounding down the stairs to greet us. Ruben looks like neither of his parents. Max is tall with ash black hair and golden eyes. Ruben _is_ tall for his age but that's where any resemblance stops. He has auburn hair and big, emerald green eyes.

"Hope! Aster!" he calls excitedly.

"Hey." Hope replies happily,

"Coming to play?" he asks, his eyes gleaming mischievously.

"You bet!" she says, following him outside, guiding Aster.

Delly and I watch them go. She turns to me and takes me into her living room where we sit.

"So Katniss," Delly says, passing me a drink. "how it's been?"

"Hard. They're both so young it's hard managing them when it's only me." I tell her honestly. "Are you having any more, Del?"

"It's not really an option at the moment, what with Max working away in Thirteen most of the time. Like you said, for two it's hard to manage alone." she sighs.

"What does Max do again?"

"He's there for Paylor, working on Thirteen's weapon base. Reprogramming the old defence systems and whatnot." she says, swishing wine around in her glass.

"Sounds hard." I say, my eyes wandering to the three children playing outside.

"It probably would be for any of us but if you were raised in 13 then you're basically drilled in everything to do with military. I wish he was here more often though. Ruben misses him, _I_ miss him." she says sadly.

"He'll be back soon though won't he?" I ask, she brightens a little.

"Yes. He's coming home in three days." she says enthusiastically.

"That's good then."

A wave of nausea crashes over me. I breathe out heavily, my head pounding painfully.

"Katniss, are you alright?" she asks worriedly. I shake my head slightly and stand up. My world swirls and my legs give out from underneath me."

"Katniss!" I hear Delly cry before I black out.

As I come around, I hear the things going on around me.

"Mummy what's happened?" I hear Ruben ask, confusion in his voice.

"Ruben, go to the bakery and get Peeta Mellark, understand?" Delly orders. I don't hear a reply but I hear his footsteps as he darts out of the door.

"Katniss, wake up." I feel her shaking me but I don't open my eyes. A few minutes later, Peeta thunders in.

"What happened?" he asks urgently.

"She came over all pale and . . . and . . she passed out." Delly stutters out. I can feel Peeta's suspicions in the air.

I open my eyes. My vision is blurry but I can just make out Peeta's eyes, they look _frightened._

"Katniss." he says softly, shaking his head. He looks up at Delly. "I'll take her home. Can Hope and Aster stay here for a few hours while I sort her out?"

"Yes of course they can."

"I'll pick them up." He nods at her gratefully and lifts me up off the floor. He carries me home without another word. My sight slowly returns to normal and I feel mostly normal again. He sets me down on the sofa and paces back and forth in front of me. He stops suddenly and collapses down beside me.

"Do the test, Katniss. Just do it. Find out either way." he says, his head in his hands.

Unable to find the courage to refuse, I shut myself in the bathroom and take the test.

Positive.

Only a few weeks but still, positive.

No. No I can't be.

I hurl the test at wall and sink to the floor. Peeta comes in quietly. He must know in his heart what the outcome was but he picks up the test anyway. His eyes glow with fear. He sits beside me on the cold, tiled floor and lets me cry on him.

"We can deal with this." he murmurs. A rage bubbles up and explodes out of me before I knew it was coming.

"I can barely handle the two children I already have!" I scream at him. "I can't manage _three_."

"I didn't mean it in that way." he says quietly, looking at the floor. My rage simmers down into nothing and it's quickly replaced by a fear. Does he mean what I think he does?

"You mean abort?" I whisper in horror.

"Yes. You just said it yourself, Katniss. You can't handle another child. It's hard enough with the two we have."

"No. I would _never_ do that."

"You have to.

"No. I won't do it."

"Not for me, not for Hope, not for Aster?"

"What do they have to do with it?"

"_What do they have to do with it?_" he shouts furiously. "I think they'll have plenty to do with it if something happens to you. You nearly died having Aster and you want to knowingly take that risk again? Run the risk of leaving them motherless? This is the most selfish thing I have ever heard come out of your mouth."

"You don't understand, you _can't_ understand. I can't just kill my own child." I tell him, wrapping my arms around my stomach protectively.

"Katniss, please." he pleads with me, his temper dissolving as quickly as it had come. The tears rolling down his cheeks break my heart. "Don't do this to me."

"Peeta, please. Try and understand that I can't. I can't just go ahead and kill my own baby, _your_ own baby. Does it even matter to you that the child is yours just as much as it is mine?" I say, winding a lock of his soft, blonde hair through my fingers.

"Are you seriously asking me that question? Do you think I don't care about him? Do you think it doesn't hurt me to condemn my own child to death? Listen, if there was any safe way to have you both then I would take it in a heartbeat. But there isn't. I had to watch them cut you open, had to watch the life draining out of you as they did so. You almost died right before my eyes. I can't put you in that situation again. I can't lose you, Katniss. Not after all we've been through to get here. I'm begging you." he says in a pained voice.

"You won't ever get around me on this one. You know that right?" I whisper, pressing my forehead against his.

"I wish I could."

"But you can't and you know it. Don't fight a battle you can't win." A sharp edge of that hunger twists in me. I lean in on him and he kisses me, his familiar warmth coursing through me.

"Trying to distract me." he mutters when he breaks away.

"We'll be fighting for nine months if you can't accept it." I say, shoving him.

"How can you expect me to accept it? That's like accepting that you're at risk and not acting." his tone makes me shiver nervously.

"Don't try and carry on the fight. You'll never get around me." I beg.

"You're so stubborn, Katniss." he sighs.

"Makes me who I am." I murmur.

"Then I love it." he laughs.


	14. Just a Nightmare

Five months later . . .

Peeta's POV

_I wander aimlessly through a forest in the middle of the night. The salty air of the sea hits my senses. Stumbling through the thick brambles, I reach a high cliff. Right on the edge stands a figure in a long purple cloak that flows down to the person's ankles. The figure looks down to the pointed rocks and the crashing waves below._

"_Get back!" I shout. The figure turns to face me and pulls down it's hood. My blood turns to ice. _

"_Katniss." I murmur. _

_Her long dark hair whips out behind her in the wind, her silver eyes sparkling in the bright moonlight. She carries a bundle of blankets in her arms. _

"_Get away from the edge." I tell her, extending my hand. _

_She doesn't take it but thankfully, she takes a few steps closer to me._

"_I didn't think you would come." she says quietly. _

"_I would always come for you, Katniss." I say. Her eyes soften. _

"_Come here." she beckons. I step up to her. She lays the bundle of blankets in my arms. Only it's not just blankets. Wrapped up tight from the wind, a baby lays sleeping. Fairly newborn, with golden locks. Katniss looks up at me, tears dripping off her chin. "Take care of him will you?" _

"_Wait, where are you-" _

"_No!" I scream but I'm too late._

_In slow motion, she steps off of the edge. I put the baby down and fall to the ground, clinging to the edge, looking desperately for her. I spot her at the bottom, impaled on the rocks. A wave crashes over her, sweeping her away . . . _

"Peeta. Wake up." Katniss says, shaking me. "It's just a nightmare. Not real, not real, not real!"

I sit up, the images of the nightmare flashing through my mind. I scrabble under the blankets until I find her stomach. I place my hand on it, feeling how solid and tight it is. I feel a kicking sensation against my palm. I relax against the headboard, relief spreading over me.

"Just a nightmare." I repeat.

"That . . that was a bad one." Katniss sighs, her hand pressed against her forehead. "What was it about?"

I spill out the whole thing to her, not censoring anything.

"A cloak? Seems a bit gothic for me don't you think?" she says, giving me a wry smile. I burst out laughing.

"After all I just said," I laugh. "That's all you come up with? I had expected you to be _serious_."

"Yeah well, I'm not mentally right am I? Give me some allowance here."

I roll my eyes at her. The image of her body flashes through my mind again, sucking all the humour of the moment away. Katniss's wide eyes pierce me like she's reading through my thoughts.

"Peeta," she says, taking my face in her hands. "you heard what Tresser had to say. Just because I had problems with Aster, it doesn't mean that I will with him. I'll be fine, I promise you."

"How did you know I was even thinking about that?"

"The same way you know what's wrong with me before I do. We're partners. I know you better than anyone in the world." she says as she flicks the lamp off. She turns her back on me and goes back to sleep.

She was right. Tresser had said that Katniss was just unlucky to have suffered like that for Aster. It wasn't to do with any long term problem but I still couldn't shake that ominous feeling hanging over me. Couldn't shake the feeling that bad luck was waiting to strike her down.


	15. Unconditional Love

A month later . . .

Peeta's POV

Katniss and I lay in the long grass, watching the sunset companionably. She lays half-on top of me with her head resting on my ribs. Her fingers woven with mine. The moment is so tranquil, free of everyone but me and her. These times are few and far between nowadays. Over twelve years ago, a moment so similar to this took place. That day and night spent in the rooftop garden of the Training Centre with Katniss, our last day before facing the Quarter Quell.

"This feels familiar." Katniss says, almost echoing my thoughts. Her silver eyes flicker up to me. She tears at the blades of grass, braiding it expertly in her long fingers.

"Maybe I did freeze that moment," I say. "so we can live it again right now."

A smile slips onto her face then she shakes her head.

"Even when I'm ancient I'll remember that day but now . . now is different. The situation is so different." she says softly, swinging an arm around my neck.

"Of course it's different. We have tomorrow to do the same thing if we pleased."

"We have _years_ to do the same thing if we please. I'd be quite happy with that arrangement."

"Laying in the grass with bread and cheese, watching the sun go down with you." I say, smoothing out her hair. "I think I could live with that."

I pull her up close to me and she kisses me. Her touch sends shivers up and down my spine. I roll her onto her back and hold her close to me, never breaking away from her.

"I'm sure that didn't happen last time." she says breathlessly when we finally break apart.

"I don't think so."

She lies back beside me, the dimming sun rays casting an orange tint over her. Beautiful.

Somewhere close by, a dog barks loudly. Had my mind been as guarded as normal, the dog wouldn't have triggered anything. Only my mind's defences were down. I had only cared about the moment.

My head pounds heavily and I feel as though I'm about to lose consciousness. I break out in a sweat. A memory consumes me, an altered one. The mutts chasing Katniss and I, she scrambles onto the roof of the Cornucopia but she doesn't help me up after her. She leaves me to the mutations. As they ravage my flesh, I catch her eyes. Cold and unforgiving.

_'No. It's not real. If she had done that, they would have killed me.'_

_'That mutt will never be on your side.' the dark voice in my head hisses. 'You let her spin you a web of lies, let her trick you. She's the reason that all your old friends are dead, the reason why old Twelve was destroyed. She did it. She killed your family. She tried to kill you, even, and you still let her in. You're just weak, Peeta Mellark.'_

_'She didn't. You, the Capitol, killed my parents and my brothers. You killed my friends. You put me in the Games. You destroyed my home, not Katniss. I love her, she loves me. She gave me my family.' I hiss back, fighting for complete control. 'I'm not weak. All these years, I always come out on top and you know it.'_

_'I can't believe you bred with that filthy mutt." the voice mutters. It sounds like a parent telling off a naughty child. 'Now we have her _and_ the offspring to deal with.'_

_'Good luck with that. I wouldn't ever lay a hand on her or my children.' I tell it. _

_'That's a shame,' the voice says silkily. 'because I will. Just look at her, Lover Boy. Love is a curse, makes you trust too much. It's the same for her. She trusts you completely and now she's mine for the taking. Only they won't see me, they'll see you. I'll wrap my hands around her throat and she'll be gone, quick as that. Then we'll move on to your precious little mutts. We'll start with that blonde half-breed-'_

"No!" I scream, forcing the corrupted conscience out of my mind. "Stop it, stop it, stop it! Get out of my head!"

I come back to myself, the images and the voice fading away. Then I realise what I've done.

I'm hanging over Katniss and I have her pinned to the floor by her shoulders, her swollen stomach pressed against mine. Her eyes are filled with pity and sadness, not fear. I loose her go and sit back on my heels, shame flooding through my system. My eyes sting with tears.

"What have I done?" I murmur, looking at my hands guiltily.

"Peeta, it's alright. It wasn't you." she says softly, sitting up.

"How can you be OK with that? You're seven months pregnant!" I say incredulously. "How can you trust me at all, Katniss? All I've done is hurt you, yet you trust me like I'm completely perfect and normal. _How can you?_"

"Love is unconditional." she says simply. She looks at me sadly. "In those first days, I wanted to just go into your head and sort it all out for you. I wanted to set you free from all this."

"As long as I have you, I will always be free." I tell her.


	16. There is no perfection

(Short I know but I had the idea and I wanted to include it.)

A month later . . .

Peeta's POV

I jolt awake, suffering the aftermath of yet another nightmare.

I had experienced horrible, horrible dreams in the last month. They all ended in similar ways. They were completely unrealistic but in my tortured mind, believable. My nightmares had doubled in intensity. After the one with the cliff, they got progressively worse. It had got to the point where I was truly terrified of going to sleep. When I did finally succumb to sleeping, the nightmares crashed onto me. In the worse ones, I would watch Hope and Aster's throats get slit by Snow, watching Hope and Aster get reaped then die in the Games, my children getting stung to death by tracker jackers. I watched my parents and brothers burn on stakes over a fire pit. Katniss was in most of my nightmares. Being shot, burned, poisoned, strangled, stabbed, drowned. What happened to her most was to bleed to death, just like she almost had a year ago.

And I knew what had brought this all on.

The intense fear that my Katniss will die when she goes into labour with our third child. It possesses me, nothing else mattered but her survival. It's possessive, I know. But I can't help it.

Katniss lies asleep beside me, one of the only times of peace she has now. Age hadn't bothered her at all. She could be the sixteen year old girl Katniss Everdeen, running off into the woods after school. Pulling the blanket up over her head to shield her from the light, I flick on my bedside lamp. The glow from the lamp illuminates the frame on my bed cabinet.

The photo is of me and Katniss on our wedding day, standing on our porch. She has her arms looped around my neck, her head turned to face the camera. Her long dark hair curled down to her hips, pinned back from her face with dainty silver clips. Her veil flowed down her back, kept in by a white band. She wore a pure white dress with silver glitter running up a side of the skirt. The dress reached down all the way to her ankles, she wore a pair of flat, silver, gladiator sandals. I look noticeably taller than her, her head just coming up to my shoulder. I was wearing a simple black suit. My hair was slicked back and I had my arm around her waist, keeping her close to me.

I could remember that day as though it were the present. We rose in the morning as usual, with Katniss waking me up. The sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky. Johanna showed up in the late morning and took Katniss away to get her ready, I think. I didn't see her again until Haymitch brought her down the aisle to me. It wasn't a big event, close friends only. We had no family to speak of. Katniss's mother couldn't force herself into Twelve and I was an orphan. With everyone present, there was Haymitch, Greasy Sae and her granddaughter, the Hawthornes minus Gale, Delly and Max, Bristel and his wife Sara, Thom, Johanna and her husband, Carver, and Annie and her son, Finn. After the ceremony, Katniss and I went home and she took me out into the woods. She took me to a lake her father had taken her to when she was a girl.

We had our toasting there, under a willow tree in the light of the sunset.

We didn't leave after that. We spent the whole night at the lake. We ate, swam, danced and talked. We spent a long time talking. She told me about her childhood and I told her about mine. Little details that we had never mentioned before. She told me about what she did as Mockingjay and I talked to her about what happened to me in the Capitol's torture chambers. Sensitive subjects but it's what I wanted. There should never be any secrets between a couple.

I was so entranced in those memories, I didn't notice Katniss had woken until she spoke to me.

"That was a best day." she says, her eyes focused on the frame.

"The best." I say, smiling at her. She smiles at me softly. "Can't sleep?"

"No. Not after that nightmare earlier." she trembles.

"You alright?" I twine my fingers with hers but she pulls away. She shakes her head.

"In the dream, all of my scars were . . were reopened. Maybe not the worst nightmare for visuals but it felt so crushing. We've spent these years healing from the past but to watch that, it was like watching your life's work being destroyed." she whispers, getting up and staring at her reflection in the mirror. I strap on my prosthetic and put my hand on her shoulder. Her eyes flicker up to me.

"What do you see in me, Peeta? I'm cold, stubborn, blunt and self centred. And you, you're kind, sentimental, intelligent, strong, handsome. You could have pulled anyone who took your fancy and yet you chose _me_. I'm not even beautiful anymore. I'm covered with ugly, ugly scars."

"Then we're a pair." I step back from her and pull off my top, exposing my chest and back. Like her, my whole body shows off my past. My back is the worst though. A mess of long, white, whiplash marks. She runs a hand down my back delicately. I turn around and face her. "Katniss, our scars make us who we are. If we didn't have them, we wouldn't have each other or this world. And as for choosing you," I run a hand through her hair. "there is no one in this world that can compare to what I feel for you. Maybe you are stubborn, maybe you can be blunt and cold. But you're also loving, caring, noble and strong. If there's one thing I can tell you about this world, it's that there is no perfection. There is no one in this world that is without faults."


	17. Ryen Orion Dylan Mellark

The next month . . .

Peeta's POV

Katniss grits her teeth and strains, her sweat and tears pouring down her face.

I sit by her side, my stomach churning painfully. Scenes from my nightmares flash through my head as I watch her struggling. She howls loudly, the pain filled sounds bouncing around in my skull. I slip my hand under her head and she relaxes against me when the contraction passes.

"Why couldn't you have just listened to me?" I sigh.

"Because what you were suggesting was wrong. I'd rather suffer through this than agree to that proposal." she says evenly, letting her eyelids drop.

"I only suggested it for your own good." I point out.

"My good doesn't come first." she says.

"It does for me."

"Perhaps it does. But seeing as I'm the one carrying, this was my choice to make."

"Don't partners make their choices together?" I say, a bitter edge creeping into my voice.

"Partners make the _right_ choices together. If I agreed to everything you said, I wouldn't be me and you wouldn't love me." she replies, opening her eyes. A smile spreads across her face. "Unless you love yourself."

"Are you kidding? Of course I do! I'm strong and smart. I'm an excellent liar and, not to mention, I'm incredibly handsome. What's not to love?" I say playfully.

Katniss giggles, a rare thing from her, and shoves my shoulder.

"I think that's the most self-righteous thing you've ever said."

"I don't know. Thinking back, 'I'm more than just a piece in their Games' could have been perceived as a little self-righteous."

"I think that's one of the _wisest _things you've said." her silver eyes widen then she looks away from me. "I didn't understand you, you know. Your lack of faith just irritated me. It was only after Rue that I did understand what you meant. That's why I did the flowers. So what was your act?"

"I joined the Careers." I say simply. "It's intended you don't go into the arena trying to protect anyone but yourself. I went in there fighting to keep them away from you. I'm sure that wasn't the intention by the Gamemakers."

"Did Haymitch know about it? Know that you were going to join them?"

"No. I didn't tell him about what I planned. I didn't want the advice against it. Nothing would have changed my mind."

If Katniss had a reply to my statement, she didn't get the chance to say it. She closes her eyes, tears seeping through her lids. Unable to hold her tongue, she cries out in pain. I look away from her. My breathing is heavy and red hot fear pulses through my veins.

"I'm sorry." I say guiltily.

"What are you sorry about?" she says through gritted teeth.

"For doing this." I say.

"Please, please don't start. You know it isn't your fault so don't even start going on about your misplaced guilt." she hisses at me.

"I can't help _feeling_ it." I say indignantly.

"Yes, but you can help _saying_ it so please don't."

Three nurses come into the room. A chill of fear rushes up my spine. They tell Katniss that she is fully dilated and can start pushing. She screams and screams and screams, just like those jabberjays had sounded when they locked me in a room full of them. I can barely keep myself sane.

How I don't have an episode, I'll never know. I want to go and curl up in the corner, hands over my ears. But I can't. I know I can't do that to her. I force myself to stay in the chair beside her. She squeezes my hand until it turns numb with the pressure.

After what felt like forever, Katniss finally delivers her baby. A boy. They don't spend much time checking him over, giving him back to his mother after a few minutes. I had another son. He weighed exactly the same as Aster had. A son with golden brown hair and blue eyes. Shame burns my cheeks as I look at him. How could I have wanted to sacrifice him? He screams hysterically, barely stopping to breathe.

"It's alright, calm down." she tells him softly. And he does. He must recognise her voice.

"What's his name?" I ask her.

"I like Ryen. If . . if that's alright with you." she says, almost nervously.

I swallow. Ryen was my little brother's name. The image of his face slips into my mind. Pale blonde hair, deep brown eyes. Just thirteen when he died, like Prim. His life had only just begun, before he was murdered.

"Of course." I smile. "What about middle names?"

"You choose. I've had my pick."

"Well, I'd like Orion. It means 'son of fire' and Dylan. It means 'son of the sea'."

"Ryen Orion Dylan Mellark.


End file.
